The Woman In Pink
by Neneluvxd
Summary: Nyo!Giripan. AU. Hera enjoyed hiding under her covers, staying hidden from the rain and public view at times like this. But when she becomes captivated by a certain stranger in Pink. She might just make an exception.


For whatever reason, Hera truly loathed the summer rain. Well see she loved summer, oh yes. But when she'd wake up only to hear the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof, it'd take hours of bribery of homemade spanakopita and promises of trips to the local cat shelter from her mother, to get Hera up from under the comfy covers. Her mother would scold her and complain that she was overreacting and the rain would not bite. But to Hera the rain… well, it did some unfortunate things to her, specifically her hair. It might sound silly but due to a few traumatic childhood memories, when the weather looked bleak, one could always find Hera taking shelter under a blanket, and there she would stay until the precipitation was no more.

Today, unfortunately, happened to be one of those grey, cloudy days with heavy downpour and it'd stay that way for a while, or at least according to the weatherman on the T.V. On one hand, the rain gave Hera a chance to sleep and cuddle with her two cats, which were two of her most favorite activities. But on the other hand, her mother had told her about a new exhibit coming to the museum and she _was_ a bit upset she'd have to miss out on it.

"You know… you don't _have _to stay in bed all day?" Her mother would remind her and Hera would grumble back, "Yes I do…"  
>Athena would sigh at her daughter's almost immediate response, but let her be anyway.<p>

And on this particular Tuesday, her mother would be busy at work until late and thus Hera was left to her cozy bed and the calming sound of rain outside. Eventually, Hera lifted up the covers to check around her room, just to make sure no one (not even her cats) was looking. Once the coast was clear, she sat up just a bit with her comforter still draping over her. The clock on her phone read 12:35 p.m. and Hera sighed audibly. She still had so many hours left in the day to do…?  
>At times like these, Hera would usually go over a mental list of things that could possibly occupy her time and coincide with her current situation. The list was unsurprisingly short this time and after an intense mental debate over discussing Socrates with her Aegean cat, Artemis, or watching the people passing outside her window, she decided on the latter. People watching for Hera was a fascinating activity. People in general were all so different and strange; she couldn't help but enjoy watching random strangers and imagining their unique lives. People watching was also an easy activity for Hera to do when she and her follicles were in distress. The apartment her mother and herself resided in was above a small antiques store on a busy, busy street. There were high-end boutiques, cafes, tourist shops, and oddity shops along the street which attracted the interest of many. Also, a university and a metro stop were nearby which brought all kinds of interesting people to Hera's street. And Hera's window was high enough up that unless someone was looking directly at her window, she'd remain hidden from prying eyes.<p>

Hera's headboard was beside the window so moving to get in position was not too difficult at all. Once Hera had gotten comfortable, she became all too thankful for her 20/20 vision. It may've been a Tuesday afternoon and raining, but there still were quite a few people roaming the sidewalks below. It was rare for Hera to see the same person multiple times, but there were the few regulars. Such as, the man who always had his lunch at the bistro directly across the street. He must be an important man, for his suits were always fitted and he always carried a leather briefcase. That, or he liked pretending he was an important person. But, every weekday without fail, The Important Man would head to La Bella Bistro to eat lunch. Most days he sat inside but on the days he didn't and dined outside, Hera could easily see his face, which added to his Important status. His hair was always slicked back, _always_. And he seemed so stern and stiff it actually made Hera's muscles ache at just how rigid and structured the Important Man was, however, every now and then the man did seem to relax and one time Hera even witnessed him smile! Those times always did seem to correlate with when he was served by a certain waiter… And ah! There he was. The Important Man came walking up the stairs from the metro and made a beeline for the restaurant.

Hera's lips tugged up into a smirk as the Important Man almost collided with another regular, Mr. Caterpillar. Mr. Caterpillar's face turned red and yelled a few phrases Hera couldn't hear but could probably guess at, before running down the street to presumably enter the bookshop. Hera couldn't be certain if Mr. Caterpillar worked at the dusty old shop or simply enjoyed being there often, but he always seemed to be late and always seemed to be grumpy. He'd often yell or shout choice curse words at people on their phones who'd bump into him, which provided endless entertainment for Hera. There were a few other regulars such as the Flower Girl, who'd always have a flower tucked behind her ear as she walked to the metro precisely at four o'clock on Fridays. Or the Bacon Brothers, who ran a food truck which parked on her street every now and then. Their truck's premise was to add bacon and maple syrup to everything on their menu. Something that did not necessarily appeal to Hera but they always seemed to have a line around the block when they were open, so she supposed some people out there may find that type of cuisine delicious.

The rest of the people Hera took interest in were not regulars, in fact, they were people she'd see for maybe 30 seconds and then they'd disappear from her life forever. She'd smile at the people coming out of the boutiques with bags upon bags of clothes or shoes. She'd ogle at the food the servers would bring out to the tables in front of the bistro and glare when rude customers caused their server unnecessary stress. And while people were out and about, it was a bit boring. Most seemed to be in a rush to get out the rain, especially those without umbrellas. There was a pause in the rain and Hera strained her head to see just the tiniest bit of sun poking out from the clouds.

Good. Just the notion that this dreadful weather may pass sooner than expected gave Hera extreme pleasure.  
>Hera looked back down to the street to notice something or rather someone, doing something quite extraordinary. Hera hadn't looked close enough at the bistro in the past several minutes, and she supposed she hadn't noticed a young woman sitting on the patio of the bistro. The patio was shaded and the rain had dyed down so her sitting outside wasn't all that strange. She seemed rather plain as well, her clothes all in very muted tones of pink and her face rather like the Important Man's, in that her expression was rather expressionless. Yet, Hera was fascinated and for two reasons. The first was that while the woman did seem rather boring, her dark hair which fell just above her shoulders in a very precise cut, was quite possibly the most beautiful hair Hera had ever seen. And although Hera was quite a ways away from the woman, she could tell if one was to run their fingers through that hair it'd be like touching the most expensive and luxurious silk. Normally Hera would become quite envious as she usually did of those blessed with luscious locks and not a mane of an incredibly unkempt beast, but that wasn't what she was feeling. And perhaps it's because of the second thing about the woman that Hera took notice of.<br>The woman glanced around obviously ignorant of Hera's watchful position, and quickly looked beneath the table. From Hera's view she could easily see what the woman was so focused on: a stray cat. Hera had gotten to know many of the stray cats in her neighborhood, as she used to feed them before her mother banned her from doing so as she ended up expunging their own cat food inventory in less than a week. The cats often hung around the bistro and other restaurants hoping to catch some crumbs or leftovers. The usual scenario when one of these cats was found under a patron's table is that they would become quite uncomfortable and shoo or chase the cat away. So as the woman ripped off a piece of bread and clandestinely dropped it under the table while pretending to read the newspaper in front of her, Hera swore her heart skipped a beat. Hera avidly watched the woman continue to drop some food every now and then until her whole meal was finished. Hera watched her politely thank the waiter and get up to leave. The woman got up to walk away but before she got too far, she suddenly crouched down to look under the table, where the stray had stayed throughout the whole time. It was so quick, if you weren't a terribly creepy people-watcher with terrible childhood traumas about hair, you might not have noticed it. But the woman looked at that cat and smiled, such a beautiful smile, Hera dreadfully missed it when the woman straightened up and glanced around once more. Hera's nose pressed to the glass of the window and she followed the woman walk down the street and out of her view. After she was gone, Hera let out a breath she had not realized she'd been holding in. And in that moment Hera hoped with all she had in her that that woman would not be a fleeting stranger but become a regular. That woman that she so longed to see again. The Woman In Pink.

* * *

><p>to be continued !<br>I listened to tom's diner by Susanne vega … kinda on repeat … while writing this.. yea...


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